This is loneliness, I know Pure
by Nea-9
Summary: My first Mab/Mordred ficlet. Please read and review.


Disclaimer: Hallmarks Merlin does not belong to me, and neither do the characters. A violation of copy rights is not intended.

A/N: This is to be considered NC-17 for various reasons.

English is not my first language, so please have mercy, I am trying my best.

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**This is loneliness, I know (Pure)**

"'Ive been standing here alone, waiting on my own, for something that will fill the emptiness inside the moment that youre mine. But this is loneliness I know..." (Dream of you, Schiller mit Heppner)

If anything, _she_ was his mother. Not the mortal who had given birth to him, but she, who had given him life. She, who caused his heart to beat faster, every time. She, who had made life taste like something worthwhile.

He had been taught to worship her since the earliest days of his childhood, to honour the Old Ways and their magic. But even if no one had ever urged him to do so, he would have sacrificed his life to her nonetheless. To him, she was no superior, emotionally detached and far-away Goddess, who knew nothing of the arduousness of his life. No. She was the magic in his mortal veins. And he was her favourite.

She had always been there, with him, his whole existence. When he was a toddler, she had held him in her arms, allowing him to burry his face in her neck, breathing in the divine and delicious scent of her skin.

Her presence had always caused a myriad of emotions to erupt in him, most of them quite delightful.

He worshipped _her_, and her alone, for who and what she was, and surrendered the days of his childhood only too happily. Her magic made him grow up, made him grow up so fast, and the myriad of emotions inside his soul doubled. New feelings came up, feelings he couldnt always explain, but knew were natural.

The emotions were burning like fire, and he had to find distraction. He turned to other girls, servants and peasants mostly, if only for a very brief time. Simply so he could abate a pain there was only one cure for.

Later, he realized that his short encounters with girls and young women werent even the worst things that could have happened, for he had learned quite a deal from them.

The softness and the frailty of the female body, the taste of a sweet kiss, caresses exchanged in passion.

But nothing seemed to help. Her presence made it better and worse at the same time. Sometimes he had to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from simply taking her. She was just _too_ much, she was too beautiful, too powerful, too seductive. It had been a lot more upsetting when her magic had still been at work in his blood though. Her sight alone had caused his heart to almost burst. Now, after he was finally considered an adult, it was easier.

But he had always known that she was no servant or peasant girl. No.

All these thoughts rushed through Mordredd head as he looked at her, noticing the soft glowing of her throat every time she took a breath. He was sure she could interpret the starving look on his face perfectly well, and if Mordred had caught his own reflection in a mirror in that very moment, he would have known that he was staring at her like a hungry wolf.

She knew. She had always known.

She watched him as he tried to repress the beast inside him, fighting with himself. His hands were shaking, and a strange smile twisted his features.

She laughed.

She knew. She had always known.

Slowly, oh so slowly, she walked over to him, laughing at his expense. Was she mocking him? He didn't care. Nothing would change his devotion to her, nothing.

They both knew that he never would (nor could) hurt her, she had the ability to tear him to pieces if she wished.

She stopped only as her folded hands pressed softly against his chest. A wicked smile was fixed on her face, and Mordred felt as if his whole being was on fire. He couldn't remember ever being this close to her since...well, ever since childhood. She chuckled again, but then her expression changed. Looking at him from moist, opal-coloured eyes, parted her rose petal lips, and slowly let the tip of her tongue glide over his bottom lip, as if trying to drink the desperate lust from his mouth.

A quiet scream escaped him, and he shivered noticeably. Dizziness took hold over his mind, making him feel drunk. He shook his head, and noticed that a different, but a lot better-known feeling had started to form down lower. He was sure she could feel it too.

Mordred wasn't embarrassed, oh no. Let her feel what an effect she had on him!

"Could you - could you do that again?" he tried to keep his voice calm, but failed.

Again, she smiled.

"Why not?" she asked, her husky caused the shivers to come back.

They still stood chest to chest, and Mab raised a hand to place it under his chin.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the sweetness of it all and eventually returned the caress. He knew it as forbidden, even if she wasn't really related to him, but the feeling of danger and forbiddance made it all the more exiting.

Mordred knew that he probably wasn't able to offer her the same pleasure as she gave to him, but somehow, he didn't care. She wouldn't be here if she didn't want this, so why shouldn't he enjoy the indulgence? Mordred had always been selfish

He didn't want it to be over, so he took his time as he opened her dress and let it slide down her slim shoulders. He smiled at the perfection in front of him, and let a glossy black curl glide through his fingers. At least for now, she was his, as his whole life, he had been hers. She was his to have, his to enjoy. She arched her back towards him as he placed a kiss on her throat, letting his hands roam her body. He pushed them down onto the floor and watched as her hair spread around them like a fan. He pulled at the last ribbons of her clothes, and relished in the feeling of victory her nakedness gave him. She seemed so vulnerable, so exposed, while he was still fully dressed. It didnt matter to him that she didnt seem to mind

Pushing both his hands under her shoulder blades, he lifted her up a little. Her breasts were full and perfectly shaped, just big enough to fill his hand. It was like she was made for him, or rather, like he was made for her.

The smile of his face was of a somewhat evil nature. He had dreamt about doing this specific task for about as long as he could remember, the pure thought of it had sent shivers of delight down his spine. It was forbidden, some would even call it sick, considering the relationship they shared, but that had only made it even more tempting. And finally, finally Mordred was allowed to do it.

He lifted her up a little further, and closed his mouth around a rosy nipple.

He couldn't prevent a little gasp to leave his lips, and as it seemed, she shared his thoughts on the matter as a surprised, but lustful sigh escaped her.

He didn't really care if what he was doing was pleasuring her, he was only living out his fantasies, and couldn't believe his luck. She wasn't his mother, no, and not for the first time he was glad she wasntstill, he thought that he should have gotten to know the true promise of this particular act a long time ago. Well, no matter, the waiting was worth it.

He felt the soft flesh hardening under his tongue like a pearl.

She whimpered as he breathed a last kiss to her nipple and went on to the other breast, continuing his ministrations there.

His arms folded behind her shoulders, making sure his whole weight wasn't focused on her chest.

After he had enough of the game, he let go of her, and pulled his shirt over his head and got rid of his remaining clothes.

He looked down at her, studying every inch of her naked body. He dropped onto his elbows, and didnt even notice as he grazed his skin on the cold stone floor. He pushed his arms back under her shoulder blades, and kissed her on her lips, making sure she felt his naked body on top of hers.

His hands wandered down her back, fingertips massaging her tender flesh. As he reached the appetizingly rounded fullness of her derriere he smiled. Yes, for now, she was all his.

He kissed his way from her mouth over her throat and chest, over her flat stomach and stopped briefly above her navel, and delightfully dipped his tongue in. She laughed, and buried her hands in his hair.

Mordred bedded his head between her thighs, causing her to sigh again. Suddenly he pulled back, not without dropping a kiss to her thigh, and went onto his knees.

A large drop of shimmering liquid had formed on the tip of his hardened flesh. He gathered it with two fingers, leant forward and carefully pushed his fingers inside her, causing her to jolt under his touch.

Not able to hold himself back any longer, Mordred drew back his hand and finally, fully, slid into her.

As hard as he tried, he couldn't control himself anymore; a more primal thing inside his mind had taken over.

His thrusts were deep and hot, and as he finally came, tears sprung to his eyes. He moaned into her hair, all the tension leaving his body. Mordred couldnt remember ever feeling this good.

"Auntie,auntie..." he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

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She held him until he had fallen asleep, like she had so often in these past few years. Mordred was loyal to her, he was a great, strong fighter, handsome and brave. Soon, he would be dead. This was the least she could have done.

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Thanks for reading and please review!


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